


Little Lion Man

by pascalispunk



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Boxing, Angst and Porn, Blood and Violence, F/M, Fights, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Marriage, Medication, Older Man/Younger Woman, Post-Divorce, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27476995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pascalispunk/pseuds/pascalispunk
Summary: You never really stepped out of your comfort zone, always having this area of safety that you never wanted to break. Your life was a peaceful breeze until you met Din Djarin, a man full of danger and mystery, yet he became your new safety net. His world of violence was exhilarating and, somehow, comforting to you. He came from nothing, built himself up into something and to you, he was everything.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Little Lion Man

Waking up in his own bed was a rarity for a man like Din; usually he’d have gone to some seedy bar in town and picked up a girl. He could’ve taken them home to his place, made it easier for himself but there’s no way in hell he’d ever let anyone step foot inside his apartment, not even his close family. Although he doesn’t even know where they are, he was put in foster care before he could speak and was in and out of foster care until he was 16. Then he found himself sleeping rough for two years; the New York City nightlife pushing him to toughen up and be stronger than who he was. He made a friend, started sleeping on his couch and occasionally joined him to his boxing matches in a back alley club, before bulking up at the gym they had and started boxing himself.

But now he’s in his mid-forties and still doing what he did in his mid-twenties: sleeping around with girls and fighting bare knuckled in a rundown alleyway boxing club. He should’ve quit a long time ago, he knows that but with the shit he’s gone through, this is his only release for the pent-up anger and frustration he seems to always have. The combination of being beat up nearly every day and then sleeping on a mattress on the floor every night is probably the root cause of the aches and pains that wrack his body all the time. The bottle of pills he keeps on his nightstand temporarily rids him of the pain in his body—only for him to go to another fight and in turn, fuck up his body even more than it already is.

The early morning light seeped through Din’s curtains, illuminating the scars and bruises on his body from the previous night’s brawl. He groaned as he rolled over on his mattress, stretching his arms as he turned over onto his stomach. The sun had now moved ever so slightly and was now shining directly onto his face, prompting him to open his eyes slowly. He sighed and got up, walking out of his bedroom and into the kitchen, dragging his hand down his face to try to wake himself up a little more.

A sudden knock at the door awoke him suddenly, his eyes flashing wide open and his head whipping round to stare at the front door. He slowly padded over and peered through the peephole, noticing a woman standing there, rolling her eyes. She was familiar but he didn’t know how; maybe an old fling or one night stand.

Reluctantly he opened the door and watched as she looked him up and down, her eyebrow raised. He looked down at himself and realised he only went to sleep in his underwear.

“You left this at my place..”

She held out a lighter, engraved with his initials. He just nodded, reaching his hand out to take it but just as quickly as he moved, so did she, swiping her hand back towards her chest and flashing him a cocky grin.

“Not so fast.. I’m here so we might as well have some more fun, hm? You did promise me another round..”

“Is that all you want from me?”

“That seems to be all you give anyone..”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not stupid.. I know you’ve been at this for years..”

Din just sighed and dropped his head slightly, staring down at his floor. She was right but he didn’t to admit that to her. His life was a mess ever since he started fighting but he couldn’t find a way out; he just let it consume his life, forcing him into a habit of sleeping around and leaving the next day without an explanation. God forbid he ever met any of his previous conquests in the street—what a shitshow that would be. He lifted his head again to speak but was cut off.

“Didn’t you get married at—“

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I’m just saying.. you’re capable of settling down.. maybe you should try it again sometime..”

“You think I’d put myself through that again?”

“Just.. think about where you are in life and think about whether sleeping with people like me is actually going to help you..”

Din sighed, knowing she was right. He’s 45. Forty fucking five. And what is he doing with his life? Hanging out in shitty dive bars, flirting with the cute girl—who’s definitely too young for him—buying drinks for her friends and then going home with her. She hands him his lighter back and walks off down the apartment hallway before heading down the stairs. Once she was out of sight, he closed his front door and went back to his kitchen, finishing making his morning cup of coffee before going to his couch and sitting down. He grabbed the remote and switched on the TV, flicking through the channels until he found something he wanted to watch. He settled on a re-run of an old western show from the 60s, something he’s recently become quite fond of.

He sat watching it for half an hour before deciding to actually make himself something to eat—the coffee just wasn’t going to cut it today and so he decided to just stick two slices of bread in his toaster. As he turned his head towards the fridge, he realised that he has no idea of the last time he actually had a decent home cooked meal—he usually just ate some toast or a microwave pasta dish when he got home at night. His wife used to make dinner for the both of them a few nights a week and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss her cooking. He missed her a lot more than he liked to think. He stopped the boxing while he was with her, she always said she didn’t like him doing it and so he gave it up. He wanted to put that life behind him and start a real family, since he never really knew his own. 

And he did. His son was born during the early hours of Thanksgiving morning, with Din making quick phone calls to his friends apologising in advance for their absence later that day—not that Din was going to enjoy himself anyway, he wasn’t really a holiday celebrating kind of person. Din spent the whole day in the hospital room, alternating between sleeping and looking after the baby. He promised his son that he would always be around, never leaving him like his own father did. That was the only promise Din ever broke.

They all moved to a bigger house together in the suburbs, getting a fresh start. Din became a personal trainer at a local gym, with his wife staying at home with Kal, who instantly took after his father—he had the same warm brown eyes and same curly brown hair. They were happy, more importantly, Din was happy; he finally had a reason to live. Everything was going well: their baby boy growing up healthy and happily and Din finally having someone who wasn’t just going to leave him after one night. He knew that life he had before this was the problem in his life and he’s managed to eradicate it finally.

It only took them two years of marriage before it all broke down. Din was going out to the gym in the early morning hours now as well and started spending less time at home. He would come home late, and just slip into bed acting like nothing was wrong. Well, it wasn’t at first. Then he started smelling different, but not just normal gym sweat smell—it was floral, and almost dainty and delicate. His wife tried to ignore it for a while, conjuring up the idea that he just borrowed someone’s body wash.

But she knew it wasn’t body wash; the smell lingering on his neck in the same area where a new red mark was blooming.

“Was she good Din?”

It was 1am. The baby was asleep and Din was grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge as his wife stood at the door frame, her whole face trembling.

“Was she?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m serious.. baby, do you think I’d even try, on purpose, to fuck up what I have? You think I want to be the same as my father?”

“You’re scared.. you’re scared of actually being something he wasn’t.. a good man..”

“I would never cheat on you..”

“Then promise me. Promise me you haven’t and you never will.”

“I.. I promise you.. now please.. can we just go back to bed?”

His wife just sighed and turned to leave, heading upstairs and into bed, hoping he would take the hint and sleep on the couch. He sighed himself, knowing he’s just lied right to her face and she believed it. Or so he thought. Din followed her upstairs and got undressed, before changing into his pyjama bottoms and heading back downstairs with his pillows and a blanket. He settled on the couch and exhaled softly, trying to figure out where he went wrong and how he managed to fuck up so badly.

He knew it wasn’t supposed to happen but he couldn’t stop her. Since the baby, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had sex with his wife. Were they even still in love or just trying to cover it up and hope the baby would rekindle it all? He was taking a shower like any normal person after their workout and thankfully, the gym had stall showers—nobody wants to see a grown man nearly in tears while having a shower at 11pm at night. How she managed to sneak into the men’s room was beyond him and then how he managed to forget to put the lock on the door properly was even further beyond him. He didn’t hear it open but he definitely felt her hand on his back as she stood behind him, locking the stall door. He should’ve told her to get out, to leave because he was married. He shouldn’t be doing this but she was on her knees faster than he could open his mouth and then she opened hers. His wedding ring glinted in the light as his hand gripped her hair, controlling her movements almost.

It took him an hour to finally tell her to leave—but not until after he took her face first against the bathroom stall with his lips on her neck. She knew what she was doing and so did he, but a tiny part of him didn’t even regret it. Never once in his life had he ever even considered the idea of going behind his wife’s back and sleeping with someone else. Maybe it was the way she let him be rough with her, or the way his cold ring felt against her neck but either way, he wanted to do it again. Maybe not even with her but with someone else. He was falling back into old habits again, habits he kicked out of his life so he could be happy.

But in reality, he wasn’t happy—he never was. He just pretended he was to prove to people he wasn’t as much of a fuck-up as people claimed he always was. And the moment he gets one good thing, in fact TWO good things in his life, he ruins it and pulls back his old habits. He has a child that he promised he would look after and never abandon. He promised he would never be like his father. He promised and promised and broke them every single time.

As he lay on the couch of his own apartment waiting for his toast to be ready, he thought about the day he left, wondering if his son even knows he’s gone. It’s been three years since he just walked out on them both, moved back to New York and into his dingy apartment. He could’ve just stayed, tried to pretend to be happy when he wasn’t. It wasn’t healthy for him, his wife or, most importantly, Kal. There’s always that what if—what if he stayed, what if he kept his promises. Would he be happy? Or would he be pretending, like he always is. He just sometimes wishes he could start over again, believing that his parents wouldn’t give him up. He could’ve had a healthy childhood, a happy one and maybe then he wouldn’t have the problems he’s having now.

He blames himself for it, for them leaving. He knows they probably only had him to try and save their marriage—which ironically is what he did himself with his wife and Kal. He tried so hard not to let himself fall down into a hole of self-doubt and insecurity, but it seems to follow him around like a shadow. It nips and it nags at him, trying to lead him back into a life he doesn’t want but he ends up just giving in and falling into the comfort of his self-hatred. 

The toaster pops and he stirs awake for a second, blinking his eyes open and slowly padding over to the kitchen. He butters his toast and walks back over to the couch, slumping down in the seat and munching on the food in front of him. It took him a long time to eat

the slices of toast, feeling too tired and angry to even do anything. He has a fight later on tonight and he can’t back out of it; he’s not that kind of person. Maybe he could just say he was sick, or his back was too sore—that’s more believable for a man his age. He just needs a few more hours of rest before going for a shower and then heading to the gym for a few hours.

Once he finished his plate, he left it on the coffee table before heading back to bed, laying on his stomach and pulling the covers over his back. It didn’t take long for his eyes to close and soon enough he had drifted back to sleep again, hoping he would wake up in good time to have a shower before hitting the gym.

Din hasn’t had a nightmare in years and he can usually sleep quite well without being disturbed. However, tonight it seemed to he a combination of all his demons at once: his broken marriage; the girl from the gym; all his previous opponents. Everything just chasing him down and making him run—which, coincidentally is what he’s doing in real life; running away from his problems. He ran away from a broken marriage because he didn’t want to go through a divorce; he ran away from the girl in the gym, fearful that she’d come back for more; and he ran away from the club where he used to box, even if he lost. He ran away from all those problems only to dive head first into a brand new package of problems: sleeping with a different girl almost every night; fighting at a new club that wasn’t even properly listed yet; and nearly overusing his medication.

He wonders if he’s ever going to be married again, because in his eyes, nobody would be interested in him. He’s a mess and how he ever got married in the first place, is beyond him. He got lucky, he got so lucky and he’s never been able to find the same luck since. Yet, every time he puts his wedding ring into his gym bag, he won that fight. He’s lost only eight fights in the last three years and every single time, he left the ring in his drawer by accident. The ring seems to be his good luck charm, despite his marriage breaking down. It’s a problem and a solution all in one.

Two hours after he fell asleep, Din woke up, and this time he was even groggier than usual. He stretched slowly before getting up and walking slowly over to his bathroom. As he stood over the sink, he splashed some water on his face, waking himself up a bit more before he got undressed and stepped into his shower, turning the water on and waiting for it to get warm. Thankfully, it didn’t take long and he grabbed his body wash and scrubbed himself clean, before grabbing his shampoo and running it through his hair. Once he had washed himself again, the suds dripping down his body and then down the drain, he grabbed his conditioner and washed his hair once more. He ended up washing his body once more, the warm water too good to leave. Soon enough, he stepped out the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist while he dried his hair with a smaller towel.

Once he had dried off, he got dressed for the gym, grabbing his shorts and training top. Usually on his off days, he’d jog to the gym but knowing he has a fight tonight, maybe jogging to the gym, doing a workout and jogging back home might just push him over the edge before he’s even ready for the fight. He’d be quicker taking the subway but just as he leaves his apartment, he grabs his car keys, heading down to the underground car park and over towards his truck at the back of the lot.

Driving through New York was a nightmare, even for Din who’s lived here practically his whole life. The stoplight has been green for 10 seconds and the car in front hasn’t even moved, prompting Din to slam his hand on the wheel to honk his horn. Eventually they realise and pull off, allowing Din to then pull off in turn before he slips into the next lane up ahead and overtakes them. It doesn’t take long after that for Din to reach the gym, pulling up outside and locking his car.

“Hey man.. good night last night?”

“I won.. if that’s what you mean..”

“Thought you said you were gonna get some action?”

“Yeah.. uhh.. no..”

His friend just laughed under his breath, walking with Din over to the punching bags at the back of the room. Din set his bag down by the wall and took out his bandages and tape, wrapping his hands up before putting his gloves on.

“So, what? No action? Your girl must’ve been pissed..”

Din threw a punch at the hanging bag.

“Yeah? After all that.. didn’t think it was worth it.. uhh.. too tired..”

“Right.. who are you and what have you done with Din?”

Din just shook his head, before throwing another punch.

“That marriage changed you man.. how is she by the way?”

Din threw another punch, this one much harder than the last two.

“Yeah.. she’s.. she’s good yeah..”

“And the little man? How is he?”

“Yeah.. he’s good too..”

Din threw two punches this time, both harder than the last.

“Okay.. okay.. you’re going too hard.. slow down..”

Din stepped back, holding out his hands for his friend to take off his gloves. Once they were off, he lifted one of his hands to wipe the sweat from his forehead, not realising there was blood seeping out of his knuckles and fingers and he ended up wiping a smear of the red liquid across his skin.

“Dude.. you’re fucking bleeding!”

“What? Oh.. shit..”

His friend dived instantly into his bag, pulling out new bandages and antiseptic wipes. He stood back up, moving immediately to deal with Din’s wounds.

“I keep telling you.. you’re going too hard.. you need to calm down..”

“Yeah.. I know, sorry..”

“Imagine if you forgot to take off that ring.. you could’ve done some real damage to it.. and more damage to your fingers..”

“Yeah..”

“There.. all fixed up.. let’s just do some stretches, okay? Take a step back from the bag..”

Din just nods, immediately settling himself down on his knees, his friend laying down in front of him before Din moved his knees on top of his friends’ feet. He kept him grounded while he did his sit ups, getting to 50 before swapping with Din. The pair did a few more stretches and exercises before Din stood by watching his friend hit the punching bag. He kept asking Din about his marriage, about his kid and he had to lie. Nobody except Din and his wife know that they’re not together anymore.

He got to 40 before he finally settled down and he ruined it after two years. And for what? He had a wife and a child asleep at home, while he was balls deep in some random girls’ pussy just so he could release two years of built up tension. He asked her if she liked it, liked the way he was so rough with her and all she could babble out was a croaky yes, his hand wrapped around her throat preventing her from speaking properly. She whimpered his name as she came around his cock, her voice a soft whine which was music to Din’s ears. He craved that sound for months on end—even months after he left his wife. He’s still thinking about it even now.

“Well?”

“Sorry.. zoned out.. what did you say?”

“Is everything okay? You’ve been kinda off all day..”

“Yeah.. yeah, fine.. still tired..”

“What I said was.. you think you’ll get any fights next week?”

“I hope so.. gotta provide for the family..”

“Man.. you really have the perfect life.. a family, a nice house, a good job.. you got it all.. you really made it..”

“Yeah.. yeah..”

Din just sighed and nodded, forcing a smile on his face. Even when he was married, his life still wasn’t perfect. Maybe one day it could though, he hopes. He longs for the day he’s finally truly happy, no matter how long it takes.


End file.
